Seven dinner sam

... Sam was five years old when I was born. He was a gentle, patient cat but a playful one. He never scratched us when we were little no matter what we did to him. He was a small black cat, the runt of the litter and the more he ate the thinner he seemed to get. Despite this, his coat was soft and shiny and he always looked healthy. He had enormous green eyes and used these to his advantage when he wanted sympathy or more likely wanted food. Sam was nine when we moved house and it didn't take him long before he was exploring the neighbourhood. Despite his small size and pathetic looks he could still chase off all the other cats in the street even though they were twice as big as him. He also liked exploring the next-door neighbours garden and would invite himself into their house.

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